


to the core

by blackandblue13



Series: some jatp one-shots bc i'm emo [3]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Established Relationship, Gay Panic, Getting Together, M/M, Sorta kinda, bobby is a good homie u guys are just mean, i've been awake for too long shhh, luke is just so stressed and now i'm getting secondhand stress wtf bro, more like ace pan panic lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29437227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackandblue13/pseuds/blackandblue13
Summary: Luke has always been an affectionate guy.For as long as he can remember, it’s been ingrained into his head: love your friends and family and make it known.~or: a look into luke's perspective of love, touch, and his boys
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms)
Series: some jatp one-shots bc i'm emo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969249
Comments: 11
Kudos: 108





	to the core

**Author's Note:**

> this is, like, a combination luke-physical-touch-study while also being a sorta companion fic to “bittersweet love story” from luke’s pov (and also set after “we’ll still fly”) so 10/10 recommend reading that one too although more things happen in this than Just that so no worries (but maybe some worries bc you might be a lil confused) 
> 
> title from “perfect harmony”

Luke has always been an affectionate guy. 

For as long as he can remember, it’s been ingrained into his head: love your friends and family and make it known. 

In kindergarten, he meets Alex and Reggie. They’re all assigned to sit at the same table, grabbing for the same crayon colors. Craft time ends with a pink Chewbacca on Reggie’s paper, red hearts and what might be music notes on Luke’s, and maybe a blue crayon or two snuck into the front pocket of Alex’s uncomfortable-looking button-down shirt — his mom’s wardrobe choice, with a colorful addition from Luke and Reggie. 

And suddenly, they’re best friends, and Luke can’t recall a time without either of them — not that he’d want to, considering the first five years of his life weren’t exactly memorable anyway. 

Luke holds their hands everywhere. On the playground, at his house, when they’re lined up together as the class moves to the cafeteria. Their classmates laugh because _boys shouldn’t hold hands_ and the teachers say nothing. 

The first time Luke is properly chastised is when he and Reggie sleep over at Alex’s house. 

None of them have ever had a sleepover, but Alex says he got close when he almost stayed the night during a lock-in sponsored by his church camp, although they had to call his mom to pick him up in the middle of the night. 

Alex has a miniature drum set in his living room, which Luke thinks is really cool, and he lets Luke and Reggie play on it, too. It sounds like nonsense, no matter who sits at the kit, but it doesn’t matter. Luke has been falling in love with music, the one thing he _can’t_ hug, but this is the next best thing: playing it. 

He holds Reggie’s hand as they sit and watch Alex show them how _a pro_ does it, until his dad comes in and tells them to separate. Luke doesn’t understand, so he asks _Why?_ like any five-year-old kid would, but Mr. Mercer refuses to explain past the reasoning that it’s _wrong_. They listen — mainly because Reggie agrees as soon as Mr. Mercer raises his voice — but they go back to their normal behavior after Alex closes his bedroom door. 

It becomes an unspoken agreement that they’ll avoid Alex’s house for sleepovers if they can help it. Reggie’s is out of the question because he says his parents are really loud so they probably won’t get any sleep, which leaves Luke’s. 

As the years go on, they’re told to stop holding hands in public — which Luke _still_ doesn’t understand, but whatever. Parents, teachers, classmates, people who don’t _get_ them are the ones telling them how to live their lives. It’s stupid, but they listen, only because they have a history of getting into _more_ trouble for talking back. 

Holding hands turns into short pats on the back, quick shoulder squeezes, and linked pinkies when no one is looking. Hugs only happen when they’re home alone, but even then, they’re rushed. 

Alex leans on Reggie’s shoulder and they jump apart when Mr. Patterson enters the room, no matter how many times he and Mrs. Patterson assure them it’s okay. 

Reggie steals the role of being the ultimate little spoon — and Luke _totally_ isn’t jealous — finding a spot between the two of them as they end up in cuddle piles around Luke’s house. 

Luke kisses their knuckles on particularly bad days, like when Alex’s parents won’t let him quit the basketball team they made him try out for, or when Reggie’s barely look at him after signing a field trip permission slip. 

* * *

**1990.**

Luke’s parents buy him an acoustic guitar for his birthday, the same year Reggie gets his bass, and the year after Alex finally upgrades to a real drum set. Alex’s house may be off-limits for sleepovers, but the basement turns into a place of expression. Monthly jam sessions become weekly as Luke and Reggie master their craft. Alex’s parents and sister go out for dinner on those same nights, ordering pizza for the boys, and spending necessary time away from a mediocre middle schoolers' band rehearsal. 

~~~

Luke takes Suzy Nichols to the eighth grade dance because people keep telling him he’s supposed to ask a girl, and as cute as he thinks she is, he would much rather spend time with Alex and Reggie, who end up dateless. It works out in Luke’s favor, though, because Suzy only needs him for the single slow dance, then ditches him to hang out with her friends for the rest of the evening. 

Alex and Reggie are better dancers than Luke expected. Well, Alex is. He seems to know what he’s doing as he bops along in perfect time to every beat. Reggie does the same, but his style includes more jumping and less looking around to see if people care that he’s dancing in the first place. 

The guitar melody gets stuck in Luke’s head. It’s some pop song his mom hums along to when it plays on the radio as she cooks dinner. He knows it well, even though it’s not his favorite genre. He knows every chord and riff. And in that sweaty, middle school gym, Luke is fully aware of three constant sources of love in his life: Alex, Reggie, and music. 

* * *

**1992.**

In their freshman year music class, they meet Bobby, a sophomore who also plays guitar. 

And then Luke has the craziest idea: “We should start a band.” 

“I thought we were already a band, you dork,” Reggie laughs, nudging his shoulder. 

“No, I mean a real band,” Luke says, shoving him in return. “Like, uh…” 

“ABBA?” 

“ _No way_ , Alex—” 

“Dolly Parton!” 

“She’s not a _band_ , Reg—” 

“Green Day?” 

“ _Yes_!” Luke likes Bobby more and more, especially since he’s the only one who gave a helpful suggestion. “I want us to be like them.” 

“How are we supposed to do that?” Alex asks. “Do any of us even know how to write music?” 

“Well, I…” Out of nowhere, Luke feels _way_ too vulnerable, even though he’s with his best friends and a new guy who seems like he might be a good addition to their group. “I’ve been working on some stuff…” he trails off until he’s not sure he can be heard anymore. 

Reggie grabs his shoulder with such force that Luke feels electricity from the touch. “Dude, that’s _awesome_!” 

“Doesn’t mean they’ll be good,” Alex snorts, and Luke’s heart skips a beat, though he knows the comment is lighthearted. That doesn’t stop Reggie from sticking his tongue out at Alex. 

“Don’t we have to listen to them first to know if they’re good or not?” Bobby suggests. 

All eyes land on Luke. “I guess we’ll have to find out after school.” And their first band practice is set. 

~~~ 

It goes a hell of a lot better than Luke expected. 

The guys love his songs, even when Luke says he’s thinking about changing all of them. He’ll still tweak them, no matter how much they assure him they’re perfect for the rocking vibe they want. 

Bobby plays for them, too, and he’s _amazing_. There’s no debate of him joining the band. He and Alex get along well, experimenting with riffs and beats for one of Luke’s songs with the working title _In Your Starlight_. 

Luke steals Reggie for lyric help, and thankfully, Bobby doesn’t comment when Reggie hooks his chin over Luke’s shoulder. But the familiar warmth of his friend doesn’t prevent the onset of his recurring, self-conscious thoughts. 

So _that’s_ what they forgot to mention.

Bobby is new. Bobby isn’t used to them being so… _them_. Luke is glad he didn’t say anything, but that feeling can only last so long. In the ten seconds it takes Mrs. Mercer to come downstairs with snacks — but without warning — Reggie puts a foot of space between himself and Luke on the floor. But once she’s gone, that’s when Bobby’s questions start. 

“Are you guys, like, together?” He doesn’t sound judgmental, thank goodness. If anything, it’s like he’s unsure of how to approach the situation. 

Luke quirks an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

“You guys seem… close.” 

Reggie laughs, bumping his foot into Luke’s. “Nah, we just like to cuddle.” 

Bobby huffs out an awkward chuckle. “Isn’t that a little gay?” 

“Do you have a problem with that?” Alex stands from behind his kit, surprising all of him with his sudden outburst. 

Bobby holds up his hands in defense. “No! No, of course not.” He fiddles with his guitar strap. “It’s just… you guys are cool, but if you weren’t cool with _that_ , then things would just be… weird… you know?” He pauses, looking at them expectantly, but none of them interrupt him. “We’re cool, right?” 

Alex hesitates before nodding, then Luke and Reggie follow suit, and then Bobby as he realizes they’re all on the same page. Alex says something about one of Bobby’s riffs and they’re back in music mode. Reggie takes Luke’s hand and they resume writing. 

The air is comfortable again, like they collectively exhaled at the same time, as weird as that exchange was. Luke isn’t exactly sure what it meant, but if he can hold Alex and Reggie’s hands in front of another person without getting weird looks, he’s okay. 

* * *

Luke’s heart pounds as he throws his arms around the guys’ shoulders before their first gig: Bobby’s grandma’s book club. 

Bobby stiffens at the sudden contact and Luke drops his arm with a quiet apology, until he feels Bobby’s arm bump into his side as it lands around Alex’s waist. 

After the gig, Luke is on top of the world. He hugs his boys and kisses their cheeks and his heart beats a mile a minute when he sees Alex and Reggie sport identical blushes, but Luke chalks it up to adrenaline. Bobby is pulled away for grandmotherly appraisal, leaving Luke to hug his best friends again. 

_This_. This is what he wants to do for the rest of his life. 

* * *

**September 1993.**

At some point, for some unknown reason, Alex and Reggie start getting closer. 

There have always been situations where two of them bond over a certain thing more than the trio as a whole. 

Luke and Reggie talk about girls. Luke will eat some odd food combination and Reggie is usually willing to try it, but half the time, he’ll scrunch up his nose in disgust alongside Alex. They’re both overprotective of Alex, although they don’t show it too much. They’re ready to take punches for their friends — and they have — but Luke has yet to receive a clear answer as to how and why Reggie is so skilled with a first-aid kit after a fight. 

Luke and Alex share a hatred for math, and even after a decade of friendship, they still don’t understand how Reggie is such a whiz with numbers. They’re overprotective of Reggie, giving in to some of his requests easier than they’d like to admit, and sharing an unspoken agreement to spoon him before each other. They bicker over the best albums by various artists, but always agree when it comes to Queen. 

(“It’s obviously _A Night at the Opera_.” 

“You’re right, but I feel like you’re only saying that because of John Deacon’s hair in ‘75.” 

“ _Luke_ —”)

But Reggie and Alex have always had opposite ideologies — one jumping into things headfirst, one staying in his head longer than necessary. They complement each other, bringing a balance of stepping out of comfort zones while maintaining a mindset built on ensuring safety. No matter how different they’ve grown up to become, Luke appreciates how well they still click. 

Until now. 

There aren’t inside jokes, like Luke expects. There are entire conversations taking place in a single look. They share food more — fries at lunch, popcorn at movie nights, water bottles at gigs. They cuddle while doing homework, they leave practice together, they bring each other back to earth with a few words and a counting of breaths. 

This isn’t to say that Luke hasn’t done any of this with them. It’s more like… they choose each other over him. 

And Luke is _fine_. He’s totally fine. He isn’t jealous. He knows that they get to have their own thing without him, no matter how much he wants to be a part of it. 

…everything hurts. 

Luke brushes it off. Maybe it’s a phase. Maybe Reggie _isn’t_ winking at Alex during rehearsals, he just has something in his eye. Maybe Alex _does_ need so much extra math tutoring that Reggie giggles when Alex whispers questions because he’s _really_ not getting it and it’s fucking hilarious for some reason? 

Maybe Luke is making up the whole thing in his head. 

Yeah. That’s gotta be it. Fine. Cool. 

~~~ 

Luke is _not_ making up the whole thing in his head. 

Some guys on the football team beat up Alex, and Reggie almost takes a baseball bat to his attackers’ heads. He spits _Don’t fucking touch him ever again_ at one of the guys like he isn’t being shoved against a car hood covered in the broken glass of the windshield. There’s so much venom in his voice that Luke has to remind himself this is _still_ ~~_his_~~ _Sunset Curve’s Reggie_. 

Luke fusses with Reggie’s hair in the emergency room, but Reggie only has eyes for Alex. The Pattersons insist Reggie spend the night at their house and he barely takes a break from talking about Alex. Alex comes over and Reggie falls into his arms automatically — which makes sense because they’ve all been hugging for the past decade, which means they know each other’s bodies and how to hug the others the way they enjoy best, right? 

Right? 

~~~ 

Luke writes a love song. 

Well, it’s not exactly a love song. It’s more like a story of _You’re my best friend and you convinced our band to ditch the first day of school to relax at a park and the reflection of the lake looks really pretty in your eyes, and your laugh is like a melody, and I would rearrange the planets if you asked_. 

But, like. Platonically. 

And it totally isn’t about Reggie, even though he’s the one who came up with the plan to skip school. That'd be a crazy thing to assume. 

And maybe — _maybe_ — _In Your Starlight_ was slightly influenced by the time he and Alex snuck onto the roof of his house while Luke’s parents were asleep and they watched the night sky for hours and _maybe_ the glow of Alex’s smile put the stars to shame. 

Maybe. 

And this song is also platonic. 

Completely platonic. 

…so, basically, Luke is a fucking mess. 

Geez, how long has he liked them? How long has he loved them? And, god, how long has he _loved_ them? 

Do they know? Do they _know_? 

If Alex figured out that _Lakeside Reflection_ is for Reggie, he should’ve understood that _In Your Starlight_ is for him, especially since that song has been in the works for a year. 

They know. Obviously, they _know_ and they’re not saying anything about it because they probably don’t like him like _that_ and they don’t know how to let Luke down easily. 

There’s no way to reject him nicely. They’ve been best friends for a decade. They’ve seen each other at their highest and lowest moments and stuck together through all of it, and will continue to stick together through anything life throws their way. Luke _knows_ that. He knows that much. 

No. No way. They’re just friends. They’re all _just_ friends. They always have been and they always will be and Luke can’t screw that up for any of them. They’d screw up the band and their friendship and it would be all Luke’s fault because he couldn’t keep his stupid feelings to himself. 

So he shoves them down and ignores them because there’s no way he’s jeopardizing this for a temporary crush he plans on getting over within the next month. 

~~~ 

And then Alex kisses Reggie while he’s singing along to Dolly Parton on the way to school — and maybe it really _is_ platonic, because Luke and Bobby kiss Reggie, too, and he blushes all the same. But in Reggie’s defense, he _did_ just get ambushed with kisses by three very pretty guys. One of those guys being Alex, with his golden hair and his shy laugh and his perfect smile and his beautiful way with words that fix Sunset Curve’s songs and sweep Luke off his feet in the process and— 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

This isn’t going away soon, is it? 

Luke _might_ have a _tiny_ crush on one of his best friends. The same best friend who might also have a crush on their other best friend — judging by the way Alex stares at Reggie during rehearsals when he thinks no one is looking — and who knows? Maybe Reggie likes Alex, too, and they’re probably secretly dating or something, and why would they tell anyone when the Mercers talk about gay people like _that_? And it really does _not_ help that Luke can’t stop thinking about Reggie the same way he thinks about Alex. 

~~~ 

“What’s wrong with you?” Bobby demands as he barges into Luke’s room. 

Luke answers nonchalantly without sparing a glance in Bobby’s direction. “I’m sure my parents could give you a list, but, basically, I started a rock band, I might be gay, and I don’t want to go to college.” 

“No, just— no. You dumbass, I—” Bobby lays on the bed next to him, shoving Luke toward the wall to make space. “There’s nothing wrong with you for any of that, I promise. I meant…” Bobby sighs, running a hand through his own hair. “You’ve been avoiding us.” 

“Oh.” 

“Did your parents say something?” 

“No.” 

“Did _we_ do something?” 

“No.” 

“Is it because of Alex and Reg?” 

“What?” Luke perks up, almost knocking into Bobby. “How’d you know?” 

“How’d I know what?” Bobby asks slowly, shifting to mirror him. 

“That I like them?” 

“Oh.” Bobby sends him a knowing smirk. “I had my suspicions.” 

Oh god. Luke buries his head in his hands. “Am I that obvious?” 

Bobby throws his head back with a laugh. “Oh, yeah. I don’t know how they haven’t figured it out, though.” 

“They haven’t?” 

“No, because they’re just as stupid as you,” Bobby says dryly. 

“Oh.” Luke can breathe again. 

“So, what are you gonna do about it?” 

Huh? “What do you mean?” 

Bobby groans, turning to lay on his back. “Are you gonna say something or are you just gonna stare at them during rehearsal and then tell me about how Reggie sang so close you could almost kiss him? And how you love that thing Alex does with his shoulders when he’s drumming?”

Luke scoffs. “I _never_ do that.” 

Bobby rolls his eyes. Luke doesn’t believe himself either. If he had a nickel for every time he rambled to Bobby about Reggie and Alex, he’d be rich enough to comfortably live out the rockstar lifestyle of his dreams. 

And it’s not his fault he fell in love with them, right? They’d find themselves tangled in green rooms before shows. Bobby would move to the other side of the room to _meditate_ , or whatever he called it, while the other three squished themselves onto one couch — if a venue _had_ a couch for them (book clubs did, coffee shops didn’t). 

Reggie would bury his face in the back of Luke’s neck, wrapping arms around his waist, while Alex would press their foreheads together and tap drum beats up and down Luke’s arms. Bobby would warn them of the time so stage managers wouldn’t catch them and kick them out before they could perform — thankfully, they haven’t (knowingly) played a homophobic venue. 

The three of them cuddle every chance they get — and Luke definitely takes initiative pulling them into his arms when they’re in the same room. And maybe he’s kissed their cheeks and foreheads and hands enough to be one, tiny step away from making their relationship romantic. 

Bobby waves a hand in front of his face, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Dude.” 

“Tonight,” Luke decides. “I’ll tell them tonight.” 

Bobby nods, stoic, but Luke can feel the skepticism radiating off the other boy. 

Luke doesn’t get the chance to tell them, though — partially because he was planning on chickening out, and partially because Alex and Reggie don’t show up to rehearsal. The next morning, he finds out that the Mercers invited Reggie to dinner — and Luke _totally_ doesn’t feel left out _again_ — but it… did not go well… 

~~~ 

But then Reggie makes them dance. 

Luke isn’t a dancer by any standard. He knows how to jam with his guitar and bounce to the beat at parties, but he certainly isn’t a _dancer_ like Alex tries to be. 

But Luke does his best when Reggie shoves him and Alex together in the middle of his kitchen while Elton John sings on the radio. 

Elton John has a songwriter. Maybe Luke should ask someone to look over his pseudo-love songs, or help him write a real one. It can’t be Alex or Reggie; that’d be too obvious. Maybe Bobby? 

But Alex holding him pulls him out of his head. Luke feels _every_ point of contact between their bodies and Alex is so _warm_. He radiates like the sun — or maybe Reggie is the sun? His laugh _is_ the brightest thing Luke has ever known. If Reggie is the sun, then Alex is the stars, and Luke should sort out his metaphors. 

Reggie engulfs him in hugs — even though he’s only an inch taller than Luke — surrounding him like the stars do to the moon, a soft light in his darkest nights, and _Jesus fucking Christ_ , he’s got it bad. 

Not that he’s complaining. Reggie beams when Luke kisses Alex’s cheek after a slightly successful twirl. 

* * *

They like him. 

They _like_ him. 

Not just _like_. They _love_ him. 

Luke has never felt better about anyone or anything in his entire life. 

~~~ 

Except… 

They’re teenage boys. 

And teenage boys want sex. 

They _should_ want sex, right? _Luke_ should want to have sex with his boyfriends, _right_? But he _doesn’t_. 

There’s no other way to describe it. He feels… gross. 

~~~ 

They don’t want to have sex with him. 

_They don’t want to have sex with him_. 

As if Alex and Reggie couldn’t get any better, they were willing to sit down and listen to all of Luke’s concerns about sex and relationships _and_ they made sure he knew that they’ll never pressure him into doing something he doesn’t want to do, or doesn’t feel comfortable doing, or doesn’t think he’ll like, or _anything_. 

They just… want him to be safe and happy. 

Luke has the best boyfriends. 

* * *

**November 1993.**

Luke dances after their gig. 

He never dances, not on his own, but he told Alex to come find him on the dance floor after they packed Bobby’s van and they all decided to hang back and watch the next band perform. 

And, god, he just feels like celebrating. 

There’s a hand on his hip and he thinks it’s Alex, but Alex’s hands are soft and he knows not to touch Luke there off the bat, they have to work up to it, but the hand tightens and spins him around, and then he’s pressed chest-to-chest with some stranger who probably doesn’t know their personal alcohol limit. If Luke hadn’t already sworn off alcohol because of Mr. Peters, then this stranger sets that decision in stone. 

The guy — who looks like he’s in his thirties and is clearly ignoring the entry mark on Luke’s hand telling everyone he’s underage — grabs his other hip and the crowd closes in and the music blaring and Luke’s blood runs cold— 

There’s a new hand on his shoulder, softer and careful, slowly moving to the nape of his neck, then threads fingers through the tips of his hair, just like Alex does. Someone that looks a lot like Reggie shoves the stranger off with a poisonous glare, backing the guy farther away and with less force than Luke would prefer, but Reggie is rarely anything less than gentle, and— 

“Hey, Luke.” The hand in his hair is connected to a voice and it’s Alex and he can breathe again. “Let’s go back to the green room, okay?” 

Luke nods, and the next thing he knows, he’s leaning against a vanity with Alex and Reggie on either side. 

But then Bobby comes in, and he seems more confused than pissed, although he could probably be an equal combination of the two without letting it show. “Guys, I thought we were gonna—” 

“Yeah, yeah, I…” Luke cuts him off, searching his brain for a decent excuse, but nothing comes up. “Just… give me a second.” 

But now there’s only worry. “Dude, what happened?” 

Great. He worried Bobby. Bobby! What the hell. “Nothing—” 

“You never cry after gigs. What happened?” 

He’s crying? “There— I was—” He groans and internally yells at his stupid brain for not letting him speak, until Alex nudges his shoulder with a silent question, and Luke nods, not trusting his own voice. 

“Some guy was, like, feeling him up,” Alex explains as Luke intertwines their fingers. 

“Gross.” Bobby scrunches his nose, then, “Reg, you didn’t bring your baseball bat, did you?” 

“Nope, but I took care of it,” Reggie says as he kisses Luke’s knuckles. 

“You— what?” Okay, so _now_ Luke can speak. 

Reggie presses a protective kiss to his temple. “Don’t worry, baby—” 

“Reg, what did you do?” 

“Well, security kicked him out, and apparently, there’s a history of complaints against him, and this was his last straw, so now he’s completely banned,” Reggie starts. “And, my hand may have slipped while he was on his way out, and there were some _witnesses_ , if you wanna call them that, who say it looked like a punch, so, long story short, I’m banned from drinking here.” 

The guys stay silent, just staring at Reggie because… _what_? 

“I mean, I— we can still _play_ here. But was that— was that too much?” Reggie backtracks. “Should I not have—” 

“I love you so much,” Luke says, pulling Reggie in for a kiss that’s far too short. 

And then Reggie _giggles_ like he didn’t just punch a guy for Luke less than ten minutes ago. “I love you, too.” And he punctuates it by kissing the tip of Luke’s nose. 

“And I love you,” Luke says, turning to Alex and pulling him down for the same kiss. “Thanks for getting me out of there.” 

“Of course.” Alex kisses his forehead sweetly. “I love you, too.” 

Bobby, the unfortunate witness, cringes. “I miss the days when you guys didn’t know you were in love with each other but kept telling me anyway.” 

Reggie throws his head back with a laugh. “Aww, Bobby, you know you love us.” 

“Yeah, I do, but I don't need to know how soft Alex’s hair looks in the morning light, or how adorable Reggie’s crooked teeth are, or how Luke should never wear sleeves again?” Bobby recounts with a scoff, but there’s no malice behind his words. “Seriously, you guys, get it together.” 

“Uh, we did,” Alex points out, receiving a high-five from Reggie over Luke’s head. 

And, god, Luke is _so_ grateful that they did. 

But Bobby, constantly sick of their shit, rolls his eyes, though Luke knows the gesture is more fond than anything else. “You know what I mean!”

**Author's Note:**

> geez louise bobby has heard and seen too much someone help this man oof 
> 
> ALSO this is the 13th(?) fic i've written for this series? and i have a total of 19 fics planned, so this 'verse may or may not end 6 fics later (i might get more ideas in the future, and i probs won't ever mark it as "complete," but just so y'all Know)


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